


No one else is dealing with your demons (but maybe he'll help you)

by Nicolatte



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-28 08:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12602116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicolatte/pseuds/Nicolatte
Summary: Harry is sad all the time, maybe because he remembers the people who died on the battle and the fault he carries on his back since that day.But after everything that happened-- he can't stop thinking about Draco Malfoy.Draco who has been dead for eight years now.This fic is INSPIRED (not the same) by the film "Just like heaven" (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0425123/)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language so all the corrections you can tell me will be welcome. I'm practicing so this is necessary-- I mean-- Showing how basic and bad is my English but eeeey I'll get better if I start writing more and more, right? (lmao)

Harry was seventeen years old when Draco Malfoy died.

He usually dreams about him -or to be more specific- about the moment Draco dies. Voldemort had pointed straight at him, full of anger when the younger boy didn’t want to be part of them; he couldn’t stand that kind of betrayal, of course, how could him?

And Narcissa’s scream-- that was heartbreaking.

Sometimes Harry wakes up in the middle of the night because his nightmares are so strong and dreary he can’t breathe anymore and that is making him sick, his stomach arching while he remembers dead bodies lying on the ground.

* * *

 

Harry is twenty five years old and he’s an auror. There’s an office waiting for him everyday, with a large desk made of oak and a comfy chair where he can’t sit for more than ten minutes straight, but he enjoys it anyway. He would like to have photograps of a nice girl smiling but the shelves are full of books and paperwork, showing how little time he has to actually be with a girl. It’s not like he can do anything about that either. Maybe that’s for the best.

But there are some nice things in his life, Hermione and Ron visit him twice a week except when they’re too busy to stop by, but for Harry that’s totally fine, he likes being alone too.

However every friday night they ignore responsabilities and work to go out and drink a few beers at Lince’s pub. It has been Hermione’s favourite pub since it opened a few months ago across Harry’s flat (which is very convenient when he ends up drunk and sad).

And when that happens, when it’s around eleven o’clock and they meet, they talk about their jobs , the way Ron is tired of boring cases and angry ladies while Hermione rolls her eyes and finally says “shut up, at least you don’t get the _Can I ask you for coffee?_ I’m not a maid” (If that kind of dialogue happens during four o’clock Ron would smirk and reply with something that souds like “you’d look so hot in a maid costume” and Hermione wouldn’t be mad at all because deep inside she likes that version of Ron too). Harry once mencioned to Hermione he has been an auror since last year and hasn’t recieved a single real case but she Hermione just shrugged, saying it’s not her department, she can’t do anything about that. Harry sighed.

So they chat about old ladies with a lot of cats and gossip about their co-wokers in a way it’s easy to forget about _things_. But then it’s five in the morning and Harry is as drunk as Ron is too, so while Hermione is distracted to prevent anything that could happen, Harry opens his mouth slowly, processing the worlds that are going to come out, maybe frowning a little, and would finally say: _I miss him._

The first time those words broke into Ron’s ears he didn’t understand how Harry could possibly miss Draco Malfoy, they weren’t friends at all, in fact he made their life as miserable as he can, but one day Hermione explained everything and Ron undertood (a little, yes, but that was enough). He doesn’t question Harry anymore, after all Ron knows how it feels to miss someone who is dead. Of course he talks about that at five in the morning too; he talks about Fred or George, specially George who doesn’t go out because everytime he does his mother starts crying in a way he hates that he used to have a twin. How not remember Fred when you see George?

Hermione always listen, she never talks about her parents and how much she misses them. She just listens and observes Harry and Ron’s faces. And while everybody at works tells Harry he’s doing better, _so much better,_ _s_ he knows Harry has been feeling guilty since that day, and there’s nothing she or Ron can do to stop him from feeling that way. He needs to heal, yes, but nobody knows how.

* * *

Harry is not doing fine. He spites his life, the harm it had caused, the lifes lost in battle.

And Draco-- Why he can’t stop thinking about him? It has been eight years but he just can’t stop. They weren’t friends and probably would never be. Thinking about Draco more than anybody else just make him feel more than culprit.

He doesn’t want to think about him, however the intricacy of his mind is enought to torture him everyday. Sometimes he’s doing paperwork when suddenly thinks about Draco and his body just reacts by itself. His hands start to sweat and quiver swiftly while his mind can’t focus in anything that’s not his body feeling sick, and can’t do anything until that feeling vanish but doesn’t erase what he felt seconds ago, it just a huge knownledge that something is wrong with him.

* * *

Harry doesn’t know what else to do. He needs something else to think about but nothing comes up-- not until he starts losing his pen, the same pen that was next to his morning paperwork. It’s a minor inconvenient until one day just stops, the pen stays there where he left it. Nonetheless a few days passes and it’s his keys the ones who dissapear and his bed shows up messy and someone changed the place where his sweets were hidden and now yes-- something is happening. Harry doesn’t care if he lives in a magicworld because that shit-- the things that are happening to him aren’t normal.

“Maybe it’s a ghost” says Hermione frowning and Harry knows she doesn’t believe a word.

“I’m not crazy” Harry replied defensively.

“I didn’t say that!” The bartender approach a beer to Hermione and after giving him her thanks, added: “I think that maybe, just maybe you’re imagining things, you’re under a lot of stress, it’s normal--”

“I’m not-- Fine, fine” Harry’s mouth let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it in my own. I’m an auror after all, right?”

Later that night (or during the saturday’s dawn) Harry collapsed onto his bed full dressed, his consciousness scarcing in a way he wasn’t able to see how sheets covered him and then the only window on the room was closed to stop the cold wind of november.

Harry wanted to say he read a lot about what had been hapenning in his life lately but he prefered not to lie. And so things kept happening regardless of him not giving a fuck and was in that moment when things stopped happening; after almost two monts of his belongings dissapearing he had to admit that was weird to find his keys in the same place he left them the night ago. He almost missed that (maybe because it let him think about something else)

* * *

It was wednesday afternoon and Harry was leaning back on the bed headboard while he was watching tv, when suddenly _that_ stupid feeling started to slowly show up. This time didn’t affect his hands but it did altered his mind. It felt like a ceaseless feeling arisen from nowhere without a helpful solution to be found. And while some journalist was talking about England’s economy, Harry was trying very hard to outdistance that hideous panick attack. His lungs asking for air he couldn’t give them at that moment, and even if he wanted to mantain himself stoic, he simply couldn’t.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

“Potter.”

Harry surely stopped breathing in that moment.

In front of him was Draco Malfoy, standing next to his bedroom’s door. Draco’s face was maybe the only proof he needed to believe that it was really him, but still-- It wasn’t possible.

“It is me. Really, it breaks my heart to see you’re still a loser, you know” Draco added almost bored, like he wasn’t dead.

And Harry believe it was him.

Especially for that stupid smirk painted on his face.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need a beta reader because my grammar sucks and there are a lot of things I don't know.  
> Also, I think this fanfics will be more than two chapters! Maybe 5? 4? I don't know

Harry looked at Draco so astonished that it seemed like the moment lasted twenty minutes. He was trying to figure out how it was possible that Draco Malfoy was standing in front of him, with his characteristic gesture, lips gently pointing out to the left side and sharped eyes looking back at him.

“I think I need to explain what’s happening” Draco finally said, his arms were no longer crossed and he walked towards Harry, who was now asking himself if Draco was really a ghost, and if he was, then it was a really strange one.

Draco sat on the bed, opposite to Harry and let go an unnoticeable sigh while his fingers run through his own hair.

“I don’t know how to start and-- I don’t even know why I’m talking to you of all people but you’re the only person that’s capable of see me; believe me, I’ve already tried.” Draco quickly clarified when he saw Harry’s face and all the questions that were probably running in his head “I don't know why after so many years I can be here. Before that-- this, it felt like I was dreaming, like my eyes were closed and the dream never ended, but then something make me wake up and I couldn’t do anything in the beginning, I felt extremely-- angry and lost; my mind forgot about my death and--” Draco maintained silent for a large moment, trying to find the right words but nothing was coming out although for some reason Harry understood.

“And what happened when you finally--?”

“I freaked out” Draco admitted and Harry, with the quiet atmosphere that embraced them, noticed how weary he looked, how vulnerable those words made him look and it shocked him that realization. Draco raised his voice again and the moment was gone beyond reprieve. “It happened two years ago, I roamed around in what used to be my home but my mother couldn’t see me. I kept trying to draw attention from people around me but in that moment I wasn’t able to move things so it was worthless, nobody could hear me.”

“So why--”

“Be patient, Potter” Arrogant as always,  _okay_ , Harry could managed that, he had done that before (multiple times). “My mother moved out and I couldn’t follow her so I-- before I continue my story you have to know that it’s not like I can take a bus and walk to some place, okay? It’s like--- I just appear somewhere, but not-- anybody I--- I just don’t know that yet so keep any question referred to that to yourself. As I was saying: My mother moved out, they sold the mansion and before I could notice anything I was at your office in the Ministry of Magic and couldn’t go out of there”

“You moved my things!” Harry exclaimed, for a moment he forgot about anything else.

“I got bored”

“That’s you excuse?”

“It’s not an excuse, it is a fact. Well, I was saying -before I got interrupted by you,  _again_ \- I appeared in your disgusting office--”

“Are we doing this again?”

“Doing what?” Asked Draco.

“Fighting. I’m twenty five and you’re dead, let’s get over that part where we look angry at each other and say horrible things about our moms”

“… Fine”

“So how can you be at my house?”

“I don’t know… I hate saying this but I can’t be far away from… you”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Potter.”

“Okay, so… you don’t know why but you appeared in my office and you can be at my house but not somewhere else.” Harry said, trying to figure out the reality of the things that were happening. They were quiet for a moment, Draco not knowing what else to say until Harry spoke again and blurted: “You hid my keys”

“That was funny too” Draco smiled a little and Harry was sure it was the first time he saw Draco smiling but soon he was rubbing his hands on his face repeatedly, his brain trying to process all the information he was given moments ago. Draco Malfoy was dead and stuck with him, and Harry wondered -at least three times- if he could bear that.

“I need to go to the bathroom” Harry said more to himself and stoop up, not even looking back when he left the room.

The first thing he did was to sit on the toilet and think, he think so much his head started to hurt but he came with the result he was going to help Draco Malfoy, nevertheless when he went back to his bedroom, Draco disappeared without explanations.

Weeks passed with no signs of Draco and Harry started to think that maybe it was all an illusion, that Draco was never there, that his mind was making up things. And he was starting to forget by the end of the week when sunday afternoon, after going out with Hermione and Ron and unlocking his flat’s door, Draco was sitting on the couch of the living room.

“Potter”

“Why-- What? I came back from the bathroom and you--”

“I think the effort I made to talk to you was more than I could handle” Explained Draco quietly, he was trying to understand his own thoughts too.

“And you’re going to disappear after this?” Harry left his keys on the table and walked towards Draco, there was something in his voice, somethings that Draco noticed too but none of them say anything about that.

“I hope not” Answered convincingly.

Harry grabbed one of the beer that stand straight in the front door of his refrigerator and then sat on the couch, opening the bottle and taking a sip from it, he couldn’t help but caught a little, the awkward air making his head dizzy.

“You want to do some---”

“Don’t. Just don’t, Potter. It is not necessary”

“Oh, come on, I’m the only person that can see you”

“Well, don’t feel to flatter about that. You’re the only resource I have right now, it’s not like I can talk to anybody else”

“Would you stop, please? What you expect to earn by treating my like we’re still sixteen years old?” Draco claimed up as he hearkened Harry’s words, one by one. If Draco was still Draco he wouldn’t directly agree with Harry, but his silent was enough. “I want to help you, I don’t want you to keep like this”

“Who’d say we would ended up like this? Living together while you help me”

Harry smiled sincerely for the first time in years.

* * *

Living with Draco was almost impossible, or that was what he told himself to be optimist about the whole situation. Even if he had missed Draco, now he remembered why he hated him so much when they were eleven years old.

“Why don’t you make your bed? How can you sleep like this?” Draco would say every morning, upset about Harry’s lack of neatness.

But that didn’t end like that because sometimes Harry could ignore him despite the fact his temper wanted to kill Draco  _again_.

If Harry woke up early enough then Draco would sit beside him, letting out harsh comments about how breakfast should contain proteins and not fat.

“How many calories does that have?” Draco would ask. “Don’t you use sweetener? Do you know how much sugar is in there?”

Or, if Harry overslept then Draco would start to tell Harry about responsibilities and growing up and at first Harry understood and maintained stoic about Draco attitude, thinking he needed to be supportive after all.

However Draco was unbearable and sadly it wasn’t like he could ran off to being free from him for a couple of hours, because Malfoy followed him everywhere using the lame excuse he was bored and being dead was not useful at all.

“Why are you following me?” Harry whispered while he was walking to the telephone box which was just a couple of blocks away from his house.

It was a rainy day as usual so Harry had his now open umbrella covering him not only from the rain but from people seeing him speaking to  _no one._

“I don’t know what to do” Draco explained again and rolled his eyes exhaustively. “I can’t touch stuff all the time, it drains my energy”

“That’s so weird”

“It is not”

“Yes, it is, now shut up, I can’t talk to you here”

The only reason Draco shut up for real was because Harry stepped inside the telephone box and seconds later was inside the Ministry of Magic but didn’t pay much attention to the singularities of the place, he had been there before, many times and in that moment he wished he had stayed in Harry’s flat.

They walk quickly to Harry department and then to his office where he put his bag on his desk and then sit on his chair. He hadn’t have a real case in… never. While Draco was looking at the books that were on the shelves the door suddenly opened, showing Hermione’s figure and Draco was taken back for a moment, not believing it was Granger.

“Harry, I need you to copy this things and bring them to me before you go”

“Oh, come on, I can’t do everything--”

“No, I don’t want to hear another  _Oh_ _H_ _erms , I can do all the things you tell me to do…”_ She put both of her hands in her waist and frowned seeming so pissed that Harry couldn’t come with a smart answer; “please, Harry, we’re friends but on the Ministry we’re co-wokers and I’m your boss, so do what I ask you to do” She added gently.

“Boss? The mudblood is your boss?” Draco asked astonished.

“Don’t call her like that” Harry slapped, glancing at Draco when he remembered Hermione was still in front of him.

“What?” Hermione sounded surprised, forgetting the upset feeling she felt moments ago when his friend refused to do his job.

“Nothing, nothing… I… Ey, your hair is looking so different today”

“Harry…”

“You know what, you’re right, I should stop losing my time and start working” Harry added quickly, glancing at Draco which only made things worse because now Hermione was looking to Draco too, only she didn’t know he was there.

“What are you looking at?”

Harry headed to where Hermione was standing and pushed her smoothly towards the door. Draco, who was looking the whole situation, chuckled under his breath and Harry tried very hard to ignore him, insisting to Hermione that he was okay and needed her to leave so he could finish his work. However his friend was smarter and pushed back.

“No! Tell me what’s happening!”

“She’s annoying as always I see” Draco rolled his eyes and sat down on Harry’s chair.

“Would you stop?” Harry asked to him, really pissed off about what was happening, stupid enough to not stop talking to Malfoy.

But before Hermione could reply to Harry’s words, they caught steps getting closer until they were behind the door and finally Ron’s voice showed up.

“Herms?” Harry and Hermione moved over to let Ron entered the room and he raised an eyebrow, feeling something was happening.

“Hermione doesn’t want to go” Harry replied, not wanting to add more details.

“Excuse me?” She asked back stunned. “Maybe I don’t want to because we need to talk”

“You said we are co-workers here”

“So what!”

“Wait, wait… talk?” Ron frowned. “About what?”

“Harry is acting weird”

“He always acts weird”

“Exacl-- Ey. Could you two give me a break?”

They remained silent until Hermione sighed heavily.

“Okay, do your work”

They left minutes after, Ron trying to change the subject and their voices got lost in the distance. When Harry knew he was really alone, he turned around to see Draco and said:

“Can you at least behave yourself? You’re annoying me, Malfoy.”

“I get bored. It’s not like a can grab a coffee or read a book, I don’t have the strength to do that”

“Okay, I get it. Can you at least shut up when someone else is with me? So I don’t look crazy talking to the void itself”

Draco muttered something that sounded like “whatever” and kept his mouth shut during two hours which was the time Harry needed to take a break, but when he tried to actually with Draco, he found Malfoy was gone.

“Malfoy?” He called and knowing screaming wasn’t possible, he repeated his words but Draco never showed up.

Harry tried to not feel like something was missing.

* * *

 

When Harry arrived a this flat and look out for Draco without answers, he decided to grab a beer from the kitchen and then sat on the couch, turning on the tv during the process. Outside the street was calm and just a few cars passed, it was a quiet night and Harry enjoyed those moments of peace. But there was something bothering him, something in the back of his head, and he hated knowing what it was.

Because after so many years of dreaming with Draco Malfoy, with his dead body falling in front of him, he liked being around him.

* * *

 

It was Friday night and, as always, Harry was dressing for the evening. It was be the first time Draco would come with him and for some reason that made him nervous. He tried to go by himself but Draco had insisted and there wasn’t much Harry could do to stop him.

“I’m trying to figure out why you want to go out with my friends”

Draco didn’t reply, he kept looking at the mirror, wishing he could look himself. His gestures showed so much more when Harry wasn’t looking, or at least when he thought Harry wasn’t looking. But in that moment, while he was seating right his t-shirt he could see Draco’s face and his sad smile.

“You look good” Said Harry suddenly and his face heated a little.

“Sorry?”

“You… you look good”

“Mnh, thanks. But nobody can see me… so… it doesn’t matter”

They headed to the pub in silence, with the dark sky above them and the dim lights of the streets covering Harry’s face. Draco wished to mock Harry about going out, but doing that would mean he didn’ fully understand the situation and that wasn’t the case. Draco look at Harry in that moment, he had seen Harry cry at night, or drunk enough to start talking, blaming himself, screaming and other times Harry couldn’t breath, his body heavily shaking. The first time Draco saw that happening he got scared, he thought that someone cursed Harry and even tried to help him but soon Draco understood what was happening, it was the same thing he used to feel at the age of sixteen.

And for some reason Draco couldn’t bring himself to turn around, to ignore Harry although there wasn’t much he could do except from sitting next to Harry until he felt better

Draco knew that getting drunk was not about Harry having a great time, it was more like trying to forget about his problems.

“You seem lost, are you okay?” Harry asked lowering his voice so people didn’t hear him.

“You should stop getting drunk”

“What?” Harry looked surprised by Draco’s words.

“I mean… If you need to protect yourself then you wouldn’t be able to do so, your magic will be--”

“What are you talking about? I don’t need to protect myself.”

“There’s people out there that still hate you.”

“I know, thanks for your concern.”

“I don’t care, it’s just… you’re my last resource I need you to stay alive”

Harry looked upset, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting and knowing that make him angry too. Why he needed another answer? However his annoyance disappeared when he saw Ron and Hermione waving at him.

“Ey, mate, what’s up?” Asked Ron smiling at him, his eyes full of energy despite his usually sadness.

“How you feel Harry?” Hermione questioned a bit concerned. “You look tired. We can hang out tomorrow.”

“No, no, I’m fine” He claimed, “let’s find some sits.”

They advanced to the bar’s counter and Harry forget for a moment about Draco, too busy trying to make eye contact with the bartender to ask for beers.

“The bartender likes Hermione, he’ll never see you, Harry.” Ron stated glancing at his girlfriend who was now looking annoyed.

“Shut up, Ronald. He does not.” And the world gave Hermione the reason because the bartender saw Harry and extended to them three beers. She smiled happy with herself “See.”

Before taking a sip, Harry looked around, trying to see Draco but he was nowhere to be seen and he coudln’t help but let out a sigh, maybe he wanted Draco there after all.

* * *

The night ended and Harry was back at his flat, leaving his keys on the living room’s table. He was trying to concentrate and think clearly to sleep on the bed but as soon as he found his vision focused he noticed Draco, sitting on the couch.

“Malfoy?”

“Potter”

“You just dissapeared” Harry said, suddenly feeling sad and took a few steps to the couch where he finally sat down “I missed you” He blurted, feeling his face heating up.

“W-what?” Draco stuttered for the first time in years.

“I wish you weren’t dead, you know…” Harry spoke again, his eyes closing “My head hurts” Added, to not speak about what he just said.

“It wouldn’t hurt if you hadn’t drink that much. Why you do you drink that much? Let’s talk about that, Potter”

“Why do you want to annoy me at this hour. Shut up” Harry put a pillow above his head, to prevent Draco’s voice from entering inside his head, the only thing he wanted to do in that moment was sleeping. He wasn’t asking for too much, actually.

“I want to know” Draco admitted, not looking at Harry.

“I’m sad all the fucking time, happy?” He threw the pillow on the floor “I work to show the others I’m okay after everything that happened, I try really hard to keep my friends and that’s just too much for me to handle. I can’t bring happiness to my life, I still feel empty on the inside and… and…” Harry suddenly noticed he couldn’t breathe anymore and leant down his head, hiding it between his legs while his hands pulled his hair. Cold sweat running on his cheeks, although his hands felt hot as his stomach.

In that moment he was sure he was dying and nobody could do anything to help him, and even if he tried very hard to not cry, sometimes he couldn’t help it and he hoped this wasn’t one of those moments.

“Ey, ey, Harry, it’s me, it’s okay” Draco called him promptly, sitting next to him. “Harry look at me”.

however Harry felt lost, in those kind of moments he was gone, poring on his thoughts with a unbereable feeling that filled his veins slowly.

“Harry” Repeating his name was maybe not the best idea but the only Draco could do at the moment “It’s okay, uo’re with me” Added consolingly.

“Shut up” Harry replied, not aware of his behavior.

It wasn’t easy for Harry to fully understand the enviroment that embraced him during those attacks, but Draco was conscious of Harry’s feelings, he didn’t get tetchy because of the answer, on the contrary, he came even closer to him. Because after all that happened, Draco remembered his years at Hogwarts, especially sixth year, where the anxiety invaded his body without any kind of self-control, the suffocated distress, the pounding feeling in his chest echoing in his ears while he tried to hide it.

“Potter, it’s me, Malfoy. You’re okay, it’s okay” Draco said amidst Harry heavy breathing.

They stayed without saying a word, silence invading their heads until Harry raised his face, looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry” He said after a long pause “I didn’t meant it”

“I don’t care” Soothing his words, Draco smiled a bit; “I know how it feels, I had felt like that before”

And Harry didn’t know what to say. It surely was a strange situation, a bizarre one. Draco’s soul next to him, with comforting words and unique confessions.

“People died because of me”

“Oh, come on, Potter. Don’t be so dramatic and so like me, people died because they didn’t want the Dark Lord to dominate them, to rule the world. You’re Harry Potter so you felt the pressure of being the only human being capable of defeating Voldemort, but it’s not like that. People died because other people killed them, not because of you”

Hermione, Ron, everybody else told him the same, but to listen that from Draco’s mouth felt different. Maybe because Draco himself died on battle.

“It’s just…” Harry started talking again, feeling sightly better. “Everybody--- I---”

“You know, my mother cried a lot but…” Draco shrugged. “She made some bad decisions years ago and she has to take responsibility for that but I don’t blame her. It’s not her fault although she feels like it is”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, I’m not telling you this so you can say sorry to me. What I’m trying to say is you would start feeling better the day you realize it’s not your fault, that people didn’t die because of you but because of Voldemort”

“Thanks, Draco”

“You’re welcome. Now try to sleep, I can’t get you up”

They chuckled and for the first time after so many years Draco felt alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited the chapters twice but maybe it'll need more corrections so during this week I'll do that :) Every correction is welcome

**Author's Note:**

> As you saw I can make mistakes because -again- english is not my native language. Sometimes when I write I mess up between past simple and past perfect and present perfect and aaaaa---  
> ALSO: In Spanish it's not necessary to repeat the subject all the time (for example in this case: Harry). You don't need to write "he", "harry", "him", "his" because the words have it and I make a huge effort to not repeat myself when I write but in english you have to repeat and clarify about who are you talking about, so sorry if I repeat in parts when I didn't need to or didn't write the subject where I had to.


End file.
